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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124368">Cinnamon, Not Roses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Lucian/pseuds/Scarlett_Lucian'>Scarlett_Lucian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cologne, Common Cold, Fluff, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:28:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Lucian/pseuds/Scarlett_Lucian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After taking an unplanned dip in the lake (which was all Potter's fault), Draco Malfoy catches a cold. A mix-up ensues with his cologne, which leads to both he and Harry Potter realizing that Harry knows Draco a lot better than either of them thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cinnamon, Not Roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/larosesombre/gifts">larosesombre</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was inspired by a late-night conversation with the wonderful larosesombre.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every morning Draco Malfoy got up and proceeded through his customary dressing ritual. It was a long and lengthy process that caused him to have to get up at a most ungodly hour but the final result was worth it. Malfoys had always taken pride in their aristocratic good looks and Draco had been taught from a young age that being attractive was a privilege not a right and that this privilege would only exist so long as he took proper care to preserve the natural beauty he had been born with.</p><p>Today was no different.</p><p>The sun was just barely creeping over the horizon when the loud buzzing of his magical alarm sounded in Draco’s ears. Groaning, he reluctantly slid out from underneath the warm bedspread, wincing when he touched the cold stone floor.</p><p>Taking care to tread quietly so as not to wake any of his dormmates (Goyle was an unholy terror when woken up too early), Draco slid on his freshly pressed uniform, knotting his tie several times before he was happy with the final result.</p><p>Next Draco slicked a generous amount of Sleakeazy’s through his platinum blond locks until each strand was coiffed perfectly in place. None of the deliberately bed-mussed style that Potter seemed to favour. Honestly, some days Draco could barely stand the Gryffindor’s disheveled head of hair. It was so infuriating that it made Draco just want to go up to Potter and . . . and do something! What exactly he wasn’t quite sure as he never let himself dwell on the thought of touching Potter’s hair for long. It made his insides twinge uncomfortably. With rage, Draco told himself uncertainly.</p><p>Finally, before shrugging on his robes, Draco picked up his small bottle of cologne, dabbing the expensive scent delicately on his wrists and neck. Frowning, he shook the bottle, peering through the navy-tinted glass.</p><p>“Damn,” he muttered. There was barely any left, only a splash of the perfume wetting the insides of the glass.</p><p>Going over to his trunk, he quietly pulled out a sheet of parchment, a silver inkwell, and a quill, setting them on the floor as he penned out a short letter to his mother.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dear Mother,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you and Father are both well. I am fine, although all the teachers are simply drowning us in coursework. Honestly, O.W.L.s were last spring and we’ve got more than a year to go until N.E.W.T.s. It seems highly unnecessary. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anyhow, I’m writing to you to ask if you could send along some more of the cologne I use. The French stuff? Father will know what I mean. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your son,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Draco cast a quick drying charm on the ink and then folded the letter up, slipping it in his pocket to take to the owlery later.</p><p>Around him, the rest of his dormmates were just beginning to stir as the rays of the sun were starting to become visible through the murky lake water outside their dorm room window. It sent a faint glow over the other beds, contrasting oddly with the silver and green hangings.</p><p>Grabbing his broomstick, Draco crept out of the dorm, and out of the Slytherin common room. The castle was unnaturally quiet, most of its occupants still sound asleep. Even the people in the portraits had their eyes closed, not a single one noticing as Draco went past them and out onto the grounds.</p><p>The air was cold with the approach of October and the grass was dewy underneath his feet as Draco made his way to the edge of the softly rippling lake. Mounting his broom, carefully arranging his robes around him, Draco kicked off from the bank of the lake, hurtling swiftly into the crisp air. He loved his early morning flys, when the rest of the world was still and peaceful. A necessary moment of solitude before the chaotic school day. A moment where the pressures of his family and his teachers and his friends and the brewing war did not exist. A moment to be himself.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry hated mornings. It made him feel decidedly not himself.</p><p>Another yawn dragged out of him as he struggled to keep his eyes open and focus on the ground below him, not wanting to fall off his broom mere weeks before Quidditch trials for the new Gryffindor team that he was supposed to be captaining. Although it would be fitting, seeing as that was why he was out flying at dawn in the first place. So he could be a good example for the rest of his new team. Besides, he reminded himself, Merlin knew he could use the practice after being stuck at the Dursleys all summer. He hadn’t been able to take out his broom once and he could admit that his skills had definitely suffered. He didn’t want Gryffindor getting soundly beaten by Slytherin because he had failed to prepare enough. And he definitely didn’t want to have Malfoy gloat about it for months on end, as he undoubtedly would. A sneer or knowing smirk would come over the pale boy’s features whenever Harry came anywhere near him and this time there would actually be a reason for Malfoy’s mocking expressions. It would make him want to march over to Malfoy and . . . and do something! Something to distract him from Harry’s failings. Like kis—</p><p>Suddenly Harry was jerked out of his sluggish thoughts by a near-collision with a tree. He swerved, only to smack into a particularly long branch belonging to the same tree. His broom was sent spinning out across the dark depths of the lake, out of control. All Harry could do was grip tightly to the handle and wait for the turning to stop. The motion whipped at his robes, tangling the black fabric around his legs, the force also nearly pulling his glasses off of his face. His stomach started churning with nausea and he closed his eyes, hoping it would stop soon.</p><p>Moments later, he got his wish as he suddenly struck into something else, halting his broom’s spinning motion. Gasping and blinking his eyes open to see what he’d hit, Harry looked around to see another broom hovering in the air beside him, bobbing softly in the wind swishing across the lake.</p><p>A splash sounded below him and Harry glanced down to see a person thrashing in the dark water and screaming bloody murder in an oddly familiar voice.</p><p>Guilt singing through him, Harry quickly dived down to balance over the water, trying to grab one of the person’s arms without dragging himself under too.</p><p>“Hey,” he said, raising his voice to a shout when he realized that the person couldn’t hear him over their own screams. “HEY! YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN! I CAN’T HELP YOU IF YOU KEEP FLAILING AROUND LIKE THAT!”</p><p>“I don’t want to drown!” The person said, spluttering and shrill with fright, but slowly they relaxed enough that Harry was able to grab onto their arms and haul them up onto his broom. Robes dripping, the person clung onto Harry, getting his own robes drenched with lake water. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to his fate, prying himself away from the person’s tightening arms and seeing their face for the first time.</p><p>“Malfoy?” He said in disbelief, gapping as he took in the boy’s familiar features, which were already twisting into a scowl.</p><p>“Of bloody fucking course,” Malfoy groaned, pushing locks of sodden hair out of his grey eyes. “Potter. I should have known that only you would knock someone into a lake and almost drown them only to think better of it moments later and pop down to pull them out. You probably did it on purpose, just so that you could get a chance to practice your nauseatingly heroic saving-people skills. Good thing you didn’t realize it was me ahead of time or you would have left me there to drown. You would have liked that, wouldn’t you? Finally finished me off and it looks like a perfect accident so you don’t end up rotting away in Azkaban for the rest of your life.”</p><p>Harry simply stared, unable to think of a response as he was still so shocked by the fact that he had just pulled Malfoy out of the lake at six in the morning. If this wasn’t a definite sign that he and mornings were not meant to be, he didn’t know what was.</p><p>“Hey, Potter, did you hear me?” Malfoy asked, nudging Harry so sharply that he nearly fell off of the broom again. Harry let go of the handle to quickly wrap his arms around Malfoy’s waist as the other boy clutched onto the front of Harry’s robes so tightly that Harry feared Malfoy might finally strangle him, although completely by accident.</p><p>Malfoy’s face was so close to Harry’s that he could feel the faint whispers of his trembling breath. His grey eyes were wide and fixated on Harry’s face as the two boys stared at each other. Harry could feel Malfoy start to shiver, water droplets still clinging to his porcelain skin in memory of the freezing swim that he had just unwillingly taken.</p><p>“We should take you back to the castle or you’re going to freeze,” Harry said slowly, tearing his gaze away from Malfoy’s.</p><p>“Please, Potter, Malfoys are made of sterner stuff than— than— achoo!” Malfoy interrupted himself with a startling delicate sneeze. “Damn it,” he said crossly.</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes, carefully removing one hand from Malfoy’s waist to take out his wand and cast a charm on the Slytherin’s broomstick so it followed along behind as he flew them back to Hogwarts. He knew that he would never hear the end of it if he left Malfoy’s broomstick floating over top of the lake. As it were, Harry was already doubtful that Malfoy would ever let him forget this incident. And somehow, Harry was sure, even though he ended up saving him, Malfoy would make it out to be all Harry’s fault. Some plot cooked up to finally off the blond boy instead of a sleep-deprived accident.</p><p>Damn mornings.</p><p>***</p><p>The next morning Draco felt very tempted to ignore his alarm and stay in bed. His sniffles from his dip in the lake had worsened over the course of the day before, and as a result, getting any sleep had been a struggle.</p><p>But there was the Malfoy honour to defend. Appearances had to be kept, in sickness and in health.</p><p>Head pounding from the congestion, Draco wearily went through the well-practiced motions of getting dressed, becoming even more irritable when he realized that he had used up the last of his cologne after changing into dry clothes the day before.</p><p>Once properly attired, he headed out into the common room, perching primly at the end of one of the stiff couches. At first it was just resting an arm on the side of the furniture, then tilting his head back on the hard cushions. But as the minutes passed, he slowly slumped further over, forgoing any semblance of the proper posture befitting a Malfoy as he finally curled up in the folds of his robes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.</p><p>He was nudged awake after what seemed only seconds later.</p><p>“Come on, Draco,” Pansy said, tugging him up to standing. “Breakfast time.”</p><p>Draco muttered something unintelligible, waving a hand with the intent of elegantly flipping her off in a fashion that only the truly aristocratic could manage, but his limbs felt too heavy from exhaustion to obey the thought. Instead, he sank back down onto the couch, certain that he belonged there far more than in the chaotic noise of the Great Hall.</p><p>“Draco!” Pansy snapped sharply, suddenly slapping him across the face.</p><p>“Shit, what was that for?” Draco demanded, sitting straight up, hand to his stinging cheek.</p><p>“That was from your future self, who will hate me if I don’t make you get off your ass and go to class to keep your bloody pureblood reputation intact,” she explained wearily, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“Fair point,” Draco conceded, sighing as he pulled himself up and walked over to the exit. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Inside, the Great Hall was just as awful as Draco had knew it would be. The general din did nothing for his head, which he was resting in between Crabbe and Goyle’s plates in place of his own. Sweet Salazar, this was nearly as bad as being hungover. At least for that, he could take a potion to get back to snuff, but of course the common cold had no fast cure, magical or otherwise.</p><p>“Draco, you might want to sit u—”</p><p>But Pansy’s warning was cut off as something suddenly smacked into the back of Draco’s head, the item bouncing off and crashing onto the floor.</p><p>“The fuck?” He spat, sitting up and glancing over to see what had hit him. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought a rogue Bludger had been let loose in the dining hall as some sort of practical joke; Potter getting back at him for accidentally saving Draco’s life yesterday. Wanted to remedy what damage he’d unintentionally not done.</p><p>But instead of a menacing flying ball, a small box was tilted against one of the Hufflepuff’s benches, having been just dropped by Draco’s eagle owl, who was swooping around the package in circles, eyeing Draco vengefully for being in the way of its drop-off.</p><p>“Crabbe, go grab that for me,” Draco ordered, his curiosity piqued, but not piqued enough to contemplate getting up from his seat himself and jostling his congested head.</p><p>Crabbe wordlessly got up from the table and brought the box over, setting it in front of Draco where his head had been for its initial delivery.</p><p>Inside was a small green bottle and a note from his mother reminding him not to study too hard if it was compromising his beauty rest.</p><p>Rolling his eyes, but feeling slightly better now that he had the final piece of his morning routine in hand, Draco opened the bottle and jotted on the cologne, feeling as though facing the day were a tad more manageable now. He brought his right wrist up to his face, hoping to breath in the familiar scent, but his nasal passages were too clogged to allow the comforting cinnamon and cloves to permeate.</p><p>Draco nestled the bottle back inside of the box. “They must have changed the packaging,” he commented idly to nobody in particular, noting that the bottle's glass was green now instead of the navy that toned the empty bottle still up in his room.</p><p>“Glad to see that your perfume has cheered you up so much,” Pansy said sarcastically, pushing a goblet towards him. “Now drink some pumpkin juice. Fluids will help with your cold.”</p><p>Too brightened to scowl at Pansy’s mothering, Draco accepted the tarnished goblet. His taste buds were wreaked from his cold, but the cool drink still felt soothing going down, reducing some of the pressure in his head.</p><p>“Pass the toast,” he said determinedly.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Harry, look, Malfoy’s owl just dropped a package on his head,” Ron said gleefully, nudging Harry.</p><p>Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table to see the blond cursing while holding a slim hand to his head.  </p><p>Hermione winced in almost sympathy. “That looks like it hurt.”</p><p>“It’s Malfoy, Hermione,” Ron said, scoffing. “Besides, the bloke’s gone here for over five years. You’d think he would know not to rest his head on the tables during breakfast. Post has been delivered at the same time since Hogwarts began. Idiot.”</p><p>Harry’s insides twisted uncomfortably. “Actually, it’s probably my fault.”</p><p>“What?” Ron turned to goggle at Harry. “What’d you do? Jinx the owl?”</p><p>“Harry!” Hermione admonished, frowning over the fold of her Daily Prophet.</p><p>“No, not like that,” Harry corrected hastily, nearly putting his arm in the jam. “Just, he wasn’t feeling too well after I fished him out of the lake yesterday and it’s probably only worsened since then, so . . . cut him a bit of slack.”</p><p>Ron’s eyes were wide as he hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of toast. “Mate, I think you’re the one who’s not feeling too well, sticking up for that git and bloody well saving him from a convenient death yesterday. Really, Harry, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”</p><p>Harry bristled. “Well, it was my fault that I knocked him into the lake, and anyway, I told you, I didn’t know that it was him when I rescued him.”</p><p>“Doubt it would have made a difference if you had,” Ron snorted, turning back to his breakfast.</p><p>“Oh, honestly Ron, show a bit of compassion!” Hermione said suddenly, dropping her paper right over top of both her and Ron’s plates. “Malfoy’s actually been quite decent this year and even if he hadn’t, we don’t live by an eye for an eye code. Harry did the right thing rescuing Malfoy.”</p><p>“Great Godric, ‘Mione, I was only joking!” Ron huffed, tugging his plate out from underneath the newspaper. "And what the hell is 'an eye for an eye' supposed to mean?"</p><p>Harry half-listened to his friends’ bickering as he pushed around his breakfast, idly rubbing the raised ‘I must not tell lies’ scar on the back of his right hand while allowing his gaze to flicker to Malfoy, who was gingerly picking away at some toast now. The Slytherin really did look sick, his skin even paler than normal and his grey eyes unnaturally bright.</p><p>Harry felt a sharp twinge of guilt and abruptly set down his fork. Getting up from his seat, he brushed off his friends’ questions and walked over to the Slytherin table.</p><p>“Hey, Malfoy,” he said loudly over the Slytherins’ conversation. Malfoy quickly turned, a faint wince crossing his face for an instant after the fast motion, before his customary sneer trailed across his face.</p><p>“What do you want, Potter?” He asked coolly, voice strangely low and raspy due to the cold made obvious by his frequent dignified sniffs.</p><p>Harry swallowed, summoning the courage that had swum through his veins only moments before. “I’d like a word,” he said, meeting the Slytherin’s gaze resolutely.</p><p>The smirk vanished from Malfoy’s face. “Alright,” he said slowly. Harry noticed how tightly he gripped the table as he moved to stand up. The sudden motion threw Malfoy off balance and he tipped over against Harry, who reflexively caught him, arms tightening around his waist like the day before. Malfoy pushed back quicker than before though, tilting dangerously again. But when Harry put out an automatic hand to steady him, Malfoy batted it away, staring down his nose imperiously and making use of every bit of the extra three inches he had over Harry.</p><p>“I am capable of walking, Potter, honestly. No need to be such a fucking hero all of the time,” he snapped, followed by a pronounced sniff, before turning on his heel leaving Harry to trail behind him out of the Great Hall.</p><p>Harry caught the door before it swung shut behind Malfoy, who was now leaning imperiously against one of the walls.</p><p>“Going to try to accidentally kill me again, Potter?” He asked disdainfully, his militant tone undercut by the shiver he tried to hide.</p><p>“I just wanted to see if you were alright after your swim yesterday,” Harry said, crossing over to stand beside Malfoy, guilt churning heavier after seeing the obvious affects of his cold.</p><p>“Why?” Malfoy asked wearily, stepping out from the wall to face Harry, suspicion clear in his eyes.</p><p>“Because I feel bad,” Harry said, breathing in deeply and stuffing his hand in his pockets as he looked at the other boy. He had long-ago memorized his exact image so it was easy for Harry to see the changes brought on by his sickness. Beyond the reddened nose and the unusually wayward hair that was a result of being smooshed against the breakfast table there was something else different too. But Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He frowned, looking Malfoy up and down, wondering what it could be.</p><p>“What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy asked quietly, gaze following Harry’s until he had caught it with his own.</p><p>Harry looked at Malfoy’s eyes, the grey depths as enigmatic as ever. “N-nothing,” he stuttered. “Just, take care of yourself, okay?”</p><p>Malfoy opened his mouth, obviously wanting to say something in response, likely a biting retort that would sting as sharply as the cold water he’d fallen into yesterday, but Harry turned and walked back into the Great Hall, still puzzling over what had been different about Malfoy.</p><p>The problem bothered him through all of his classes, nagging at the back of his mind every time he drifted away into thought. In the morning the Gryffindors shared Transfiguration with the Slytherins and Harry spent nearly the entire time veritably boring holes in the back of Malfoy’s blond head with his stare as he tried to think of what it might be.</p><p>“Something’s different,” he insisted for the umpteenth time as he and Hermione and Ron walked to Potions. “I know it is.”</p><p>“So you’ve mentioned,” Ron muttered sarcastically, only to receive a quick jab in the ribs from Hermione. “Hey!”</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Harry,” she said encouragingly, giving Ron a meaningful glare.</p><p>“Yes, Harry, that’s right,” he added forcefully, the supportive words undercut by his accompanying eye roll. “Stop hitting me, Hermione! Bloody hell!”</p><p>But Harry was too caught up with his puzzle to notice his friends’ comments. Throughout Potions he also nearly messed up he and Ron’s Laughing draft multiple times as he frowned at Malfoy’s back.</p><p>At the end of class, he was still so inter-focused that he stepped right through the cloud of cinnamon that had puffed up from the vial that Neville had dropped into shatters on the ground.</p><p>“Oh, sorry Harry,” Neville apologized.</p><p>“S’alright, Neville,” Harry assured distractedly, pausing beside the other Gryffindor’s cauldron, which was smoking purple and orange. Something familiar was there . . . he almost had it . . . Malfoy was different . . . and . . .</p><p>“Oh!” Harry exclaimed aloud, eliciting several strange looks from his lingering classmates. He laughed out loud, garnering more concerned stares. Of course!</p><p>Harry took off running, weaving through the remaining desks in the classroom and bursting out into the hallway, chasing after Malfoy.</p><p>“Hey, Malfoy! Stop!”</p><p>A prominent frown etched across his brow, Malfoy turned, watching as Harry came up to him, panting slightly from his short sprint.</p><p>“Your cologne!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“My cologne?” Draco repeated, staring at Potter as he nodded eagerly, green eyes shining behind his ridiculous glasses. “Noticed that, did you, Potter?”</p><p>The words were meant to come out mocking, but to Draco’s surprise, he felt a flash of something warm and unfamiliar go through him instead. To his utter horror, he realized that he was blushing slightly. Sweet Salazar, he hoped Potter chalked the reddening up to Draco’s cold and not his off-hand semblance of a compliment. That couldn’t be it anyhow. What an absurd thought. But there it was again. That strange heat curling through his insides as he examined Potter’s face, noticing each strand of dark hair that was falling across his famous lightening scar. Fucking shit.</p><p>“Roses,” Potter gasped triumphantly. Honestly, the boy had played Quidditch for going on six years, surely a brief dash hadn’t tired him out to the point of breathlessness, Draco thought idly before turning to Potter’s ignorant comment.</p><p>“No, it’s cinnamon, not roses actually, but not a bad guess for someone with such an unrefined palette,” he begrudged. No! This was Potter! He did not need to begrudge him anything! Merlin, maybe he was running a fever? Yes, that was it. Definitely. The only logical explanation.</p><p>Potter rolled his eyes, sighing frustratedly as he finally caught his breath. “No, I <em>know</em> what your cologne smells like, Malfoy. Cinnamon and cloves with a hint of citrus. But I’m telling you, you don’t smell as good as you usually do. It’s different.”</p><p>Draco froze, watching as Potter gaped at his own words, both of their gazes locked onto each other’s in a desperate swirl of confusion.</p><p>“Roses,” Potter said faintly when he finally managed to shut his mouth. He nodded, saying it again, more firmly: “Roses.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So the whole time I was writing Draco with a cold, I was struggling not to have Harry just pick him up and take him to the Gryffindor common room and sit him in front of the fire and pile blankets on top of him and bring Draco soup and read to him and just generally take care of him. Just so you all know the pain I went through to bring you this.<br/>Anyway, comments and kudos make my day. Just putting it out there. ;) And if you enjoy this fic, please check out my other Drarry fics and subscribe for future content!<br/>Also, let me know if you would be interested in me expanding this fic and continuing this story thread with more chapters!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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